


There's Always Money In The Hotdog Stand

by heffalumps, Katieee



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Crack, Digital Art, Established Relationship, F/M, Humor, Modern Era, food truck au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 09:02:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19943584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heffalumps/pseuds/heffalumps, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katieee/pseuds/Katieee
Summary: People just don't seem to love sausage like they used to. Trevelyan comes up with a unique way of rectifying that.





	There's Always Money In The Hotdog Stand

**Author's Note:**

> IN OUR DEFENSE AGAIN WE ARE DRUNK

The end of the fiscal year was upon them, far quicker than Trevelyan had expected. She sighed, rubbing a hand across her face.

“ _Fuck_.”

“That bad?”

She hadn’t heard Cullen enter. She turned towards him, his soft expression as he regarded her doing little to soothe the turmoil in her gut. As much as she wanted to assuage his worries, she couldn’t lie to him; she had to tell him, of all people, the truth. “Yeah, that bad. The Bunquisition might not make it to the end of next year.”

“Are you sure?” He stepped closer, just a hairsbreadth away from her as he frowned down at their ledger. “I thought the Fereldan Frankfurter was selling well.”

“Not well enough,” she sighed heavily. “The rent on the truck alone is astronomical – as is Bull’s salary. And people just don’t seem to love sausage like they used to.” She groaned, putting her head in her hands. “I think we might need to close.”

“But the sausage van was your— _our_ dream. You can’t give up now. Not when we’ve come so far.”

“Then what should we do?” she asked in desperation. “Because I can’t see any way to bring in more customers.”

“There must be something we haven’t tried,” Cullen said, with that determination she both loved and hated. “Whatever it takes, we’re in this together. I’ll do anything for our dream.”

She turned to him fully, taking his hand in hers and entwining their fingers together. “I know you would,” she said quietly. “We’ll think of something.”

\---

In hindsight, his pledge had been a mistake.

But the way she’d looked at him, wide-eyed and earnest, had made it impossible to say no – and so, without hesitation, he’d reached out, and taken the costume from her. The ridiculous, oversized, utterly moronic hotdog costume that she’d acquired from Maker-knows-where.

Probably from Sera. It had to be Sera.

“Hey, Rutherford!” Bull called out, poking his head out of the service window. “I didn’t know you had such a big wiener!”

“Hilarious, Bull,” Cullen growled. “As it was the first, and second, and _tenth_ time.”

Bull merely laughed, turning back to the grill. “You have to say it, Rutherford,” Rylen called across the square, brandishing his spinning sign with far too much enthusiasm. “Or I’ll tell the missus you haven’t been doing as you’re told.”

Cullen grit his teeth, glowering in the vague direction of the plaza. “Come sample the finest buns east of the Anderfels! Only available at the Bunquisition!”

“Louder, and with feeling!”

Cullen snapped his attention back to Bull. “Why don’t you do it, if you are such an expert?”

“No, no, no – _you_ promised. Besides, someone has to manage the grill — and it’s not like my horns would fit in that costume.”

“Rylen might,” Cullen muttered, scowling across at his ‘colleague’. With a sigh and an internal curse on the deity which had made him love a woman so cruel, he cleared his throat, raising his voice over the clamour of the square. “Come sample the finest buns east of the Anderfels!” he repeated. “Only available at the Bunquisition!”

Perhaps it was his imagination, but the crowd suddenly seemed much larger than usual.

\---

The ledgers were better than she ever could have imagined. 

Perhaps it was the meat imported from their new Antivan business partner, or the freshly-introduced Tevene spice mix – but based on her informal customer polling, there was only one thing people cared about.

And that was her husband, and his fine buns.

She wasn’t sure if the situation shocked or amused her; of course she’d fallen herself for his charms, but being charming in a hotdog costume was impressive even for him. 

“Excusez-moi?” A lilting accent tittered from the direction of the door, interrupting Trevelyan’s silent celebration. “Do you have a moment?”

“Can I help you?”

“Madame Babette de Gusto,” she said, extending a perfectly-manicured hand. “I hope you will forgive the intrusion.”

She recognised the name immediately; standing upright – less gracefully than she’d hoped – she rushed to the door, greeting _The Randy Dowager’s_ most influential food critic with a smile and a inelegant bow. “Your business has been causing quite a stir in Val Royeaux,” Madame de Gusto trilled. “Would your business partner be amenable to an interview?”

“My business partner?” Trevelyan asked, her brow creasing into a frown.

“Oui – the beautiful man in the costume. He is the talk of the town, as it were.”

“The talk of the town?” Trevelyan repeated. Cullen would not like that.

“Oui,” Madame de Gusto repeated. “We would love a headline to go along with this picture for next month’s issue. Such exposure would do wonders for your business.”

“Could I see this—?”

Before she had finished speaking, Madame de Gusto had produced a single sheaf of paper from her ample bosom, and though Trevelyan was well acquainted with Cullen’s naked body she was hardly expecting to see it thrust in her face by an Orlesian food critic. She couldn’t help but – well, _gawp_ – at the depiction of his bare behind, with a sausage nestled between his perfectly-sculpted cheeks.

 _Well_ , she thought, unable to take her eyes off the picture. _If that doesn’t sell buns, nothing will._

[](https://imgur.com/kSoWJgF)

**Author's Note:**

> Magnificent, glorious art by [vjatoch](http://vjatoch.tumblr.com).


End file.
